


Black Marks

by KillerOfHope



Series: 2019 Bingo Card Insanity [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, F/M, Female Sam Winchester, Marking, Pegging, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 01:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20685218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerOfHope/pseuds/KillerOfHope
Summary: Dean bites down on his lip as Sam presses her thumb into his skin.





	Black Marks

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt from SPN Kinkmeme:** (1) Girl Sam pegs Dean. However, it happens is up to the author. & (2) Sam likes to mark Dean up. They are bruised up all the time anyway but Sam likes to add to that and afterwards, in public, likes to press down on them as a reminder. Consent up to the author. 
> 
> #13 SPN Kink Bingo: Pegging

Dean bites down on his lip as Sam presses her thumb into his skin. Beneath him, he's tearing at the sheets, straining them as much as his sister does his hole. It's stretched wide around the fake cock she wears today. It's big, bigger than usual. She hasn't even started moving yet, only rocks deeper with gentle but firm movements. 

Her hands, large and rough from the hard life they live, dig into his hips and leave more bruises. There are already a few scattered over his body. A few from recent fights and hunts, but those Dean hardly notices anymore. But he hisses, every single time when his sister adds a few of her own. 

Sam is possessive, always has been. She likes to claim him as her own. Too many old croons, greedy cougars and nasty bitches try to lay a hand on Dean during the day. Even ghosts like to go after him, drawn to the charming boy from Kansas. Rarely they pay attention to the female at his side. For Sam isn't his girlfriend. Nor does she act like it. 

She is his  _ sister  _ and during nights like these, she lets him known how much she owns him. 

"Hnn." Dean groans as Sam places another mark on his neck. His chest is flushed, his cheeks pink. 

"You look great," Sam whispers into his ear. Her fingers are rough on his ass, short nails digging into the soft flesh and spreading his cheeks apart. "Your hole is so red and puffy. It's nice how well you take my cock." 

"Yes, Sammy," Dean mumbles. He bows his head, yielding to his sister's thrusts. He tries to be proud of himself. He got fucked so often that it shouldn't be an issue anymore. 

But being under Sam, getting his ass reamed until his sister comes, fucking him thoroughly with a surprising strength he can do so little against, still makes him blush. 

Too bad that Sammy knows. She laughs as she notices him trying to hide his shame. Instead of outright mocking him, she whispers dirty things into his ear. Puts him flat on his stomach to stroke his prostate every time she pulls out. Pinches his nipples and praises what he beautiful boy he is. Teases him by pressing her breasts against his back and milking his cock with her long fingers until Dean cries into the pillows. 

The sound when she pulls out of him is embarrassing. Dean doesn't know what's worse - that Sam presses up behind him, strap-on still attached or that his body tingles with the knowledge he just had this entire thing inside him. 

After a few minutes, Sammy pulls away. 

"I'm gonna shower," she says and climbs out of the bed. 

Dean tilts his head, watching his sister's tall frame retreat. She has the appearance of a goddess. Curves, a body of a warrior, beautifully long and perfect tits. His gaze catches the black belt still wrapped around her hip and rather than admiring her ass, Dean's fantasies slip into memories what kind of things Sammy did to him with the fake cock attached to her. 

She must sense something, because Sammy turns around, glancing over her shoulders as she fills out the door. 

_ Her  _ eyes are filled with satisfaction. It's the bruises she can make out even from that distance. 

"Sleep well, dear brother. Leave the door open," Sam winks and vanishes into the bunker. 

  
  


  
  


-

  
  


The bunker is empty. There is no one aside from them and sometimes it is a little difficult to tell the time. Tunnels stretch for miles, some rooms and hallways reach even deeper underground. It should make them inch closer together, but they discovered they like having their own room. They are never far from each other and Sam doesn't need to spoon Dean in his sleep to feel close to him. 

Sharing a bed never goes well. Sam's irregular sleeping schedule drives her brother crazy and she can't stand it him moving around every few seconds. 

Right now, it's around 3 am. Sam's bare feet and doing her usual round. Catching eight hours is impossible, but she manages to sleep in shifts. Two times three to fours hours each, if she uses the library or finds something to keep her hands busy for an hour or two in-between. 

Tonight, Sam's restless. Instead of picking up a new book, the letters keep blurring together, she checks up on Dean. In the dim light of the lamp down the hallway, he appears small. Half-wrapped into a blanket, but naked underneath. 

Sam hovers in the door. She considers waking him, rousing him for a quick rumble between the sheets. It'd tire her out, for sure. Dean's also still stretched, he hasn't tightened up completely yet. But he would be half asleep. On occasion, it's nice. Preying on him like a harpy, taking him apart before Dean can register what's happening. 

What stops her, this night, is the large bruise on Dean's neck. 

With a sigh, Sam sinks back into the protective embrace of the silent, dark bunker and heads back to bed. 

  
  



End file.
